Thursday, October 2, 2003

A Letter to God From Melissa, Age 24

Dear God

Please, God, please let my friend, Touching, be mayor. He has so many great plans that I know are going to work. He thinks the subway should be free, and he hates Mayor Bloomberg and so do a bunch of other people, so he's probably on the right track. True, he did kick a glass plate window while wearing flip flops and he almost killed a child when he dropped keys down to me off his fifth floor fire escape without looking, but I think that despite his moronic facade, he's really a genius underneath it all.

I wish he wasn't a vegetarian, however, because it makes me think he might be something of a pussy. I try not to be judgemental of others, lord, I know how you despise it, but I hate when straight men act faggy. Do understand, lord, I don't mind when faggy men act faggy, I think that is perfectly acceptable, and I love the new hit show "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy." It has really helped me to re-think my theory that gays are straight from hell. Who knew a few great design and cooking tips could change one's whole outlook on a species of people?

I don't know how I got onto the topic of gayness, lord, please forgive me and may you come down to earth from heaven and wash my mouth out with soap. I would like to ask you for some favors, while you have this letter in hand and are reading.

Please make me be able to know instinctively if someone is actually homeless or just faking it. Also, please make me know ballet by the time I wake up. I'd like it a lot if you could clean my apartment or send angels down to do it while I'm at work, and if you could make my parking ticket debt disappear, that'd be a true miracle. I need new shoes, lord, please make them brown and also, I could really use a back rub. I have faith in you, lord, I really need to find that beanie baby graduation owl from the year 2000.

Please grant all my wishes and send me a receipt, snail mail or e-mail, which ever is easier for you.
You are omnipotent and all-knowing and massive.

Sincerely,
Melissa

P.S. I always had a feeling like maybe you were Santa Claus. Are you Santa Claus?